


My Hands Are Tied

by MissDizzyD



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkward Phone Call, Biting, Light BDSM, M/M, PWP, Red rope looks good with Stiles' skin, Riding Crops, rope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 04:31:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissDizzyD/pseuds/MissDizzyD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Playing these games with a human would be good, sure, but playing with a werewolf... That is something completely different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Hands Are Tied

The crack of the riding crop stings against Stiles’ bare skin. He’ll have red marks and sore patches in the morning, he knows, but that’s part of the fun. Playing these games with a human would be good, sure, but playing with a werewolf... _That_ is something completely different. The extra force behind the whip, the way Peter pins him up against walls and doors, the strength and grace of the werewolf is nothing short of exhilarating. 

But Peter is always careful; never ties the ropes too tight or slaps too hard. He always holds Stiles so gently afterwards, speaking soft words of reassurance into his ear and telling him what a good boy he’s been. Stiles isn’t stupid enough to think that what they have is anything more than fantastic, hardcore sex twice a week, but it’s nice to be granted postcoital cuddles from a man just on the interesting side of insanity. 

Tonight is Peter’s night. Saturday nights always belong to Peter and they’re just getting started. Stiles is tied to Peter’s metal bed frame with red rope – the ones that Peter likes to see against his skin when they’re fucking – and he’s already begging for mercy. 

Peter’s using his favourite riding crop to work over Stiles’ pale skin, watching as goose bumps rise wherever the leather touches. Secretly, this is one of Peter’s favourite parts; the way Stiles reacts to him without any skin-on-skin contact is breathtaking. The smell of the boy’s arousal spurs him on, makes him lean forward and follow the whip’s path with his tongue, biting and nipping with human teeth. Later, he’ll let his fangs and claws out because he knows how much Stiles enjoys feeling sharp points digging into his skin in intimate places. He likes to take care of his boy.

On a particularly hard bite to his inner thigh, Stiles loses all his inhibitions. 

“Please, _please_ Peter, I need to come, ah!” He throws his head back and pulls his wrists against the ropes.

“Patience, dear boy,” Peter mutters against Stiles’ hip, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through him. “All good things...” 

“I... Oh my- Unng!” Stiles’ words turn to unintelligible moans and pleas until Peter forcibly stops all noise. He unzips his jeans and presses the tip of his cock against those pretty pink lips. They’ll be red and shining with spit by the time Peter is finished. He tugs on his ropes impatiently, “Please, Peter, I need-” He’s cut off when the head of Peter’s dick slips into his mouth. He groans at the taste of pre-come and sucks greedily, raising his head to take more. 

“No, no, sweet boy. Who decides the pace here?” Peter withdraws so the boy can answer.

“You do, Peter.”

“Correct. Let’s try again,” he slides in again, giving just a little more with each thrust. Stiles swirls his tongue around the head and dips into the slit exactly how Peter taught him that very first time, when his mouth was pure as snow and he was completely untainted, before he was fashioned into Peter’s perfect little toy. Back when he didn’t fully understand the rules of the game and he would mouth off because that’s what he did. Now, when he mouths off, it’s purely for the thrill of his punishment. 

By the time Peter has his entire length sliding down Stiles’ throat, they’re both too close to the edge. They’re nowhere near done yet and if they continue on this path it won’t last as long as it needs to. 

Stiles whines when Peter pulls out of his mouth. It’s not that he wasn’t expecting it because, really, Peter only came down his throat once and that was on the night of the last full moon when he lost all control. He couldn’t have stopped fucking into Stiles’ perfect rosy mouth even if he tried. The wolf took over and pushed them both over the edge without a thought for making it last or playing the game. 

“How raw would you like this, Stiles? How do you want my cock inside you?” 

“Just spit,” he answers quickly, praying for relief from the tension. Peter lands a hard slap on Stiles’ hip. “Ah! Just spit, _please_!” 

“That’s better,” Peter purrs, leaning forward and pressing two of his fingers into Stiles’ mouth. “Suck. Get them nice and wet, my boy, they’ll be inside you soon.” 

That makes Stiles suck even harder, licking between them and coating them with spit until Peter makes a small noise and removes them, replacing his fingers with his tongue and thoroughly claiming his mouth and tongue. It distracts Stiles enough that he gasps when Peter presses his first finger against Stiles’ hole. It’s tight and drags with the lack of lubrication but it’s perfect and Stiles groans, dropping his head back onto the pillow. 

Peter adds another finger and increases the pace, licking around Stiles’ hole to add his own spit. The feeling of Peter’s tongue against his hole sets Stiles moaning and pulling on his restraints again. The older man grins salaciously at the sight and licks again...

Then they’re interrupted by Stiles’ 8-bit ringtone blaring obnoxiously through the room. 

They both freeze, Stiles looking mortified and flushed and still panting, Peter looking down at Stiles’ jeans vibrating on the floor next to the bed. 

“We agreed, Stiles,” Peter murmurs, removing his fingers from Stiles’ hole and bending to fish the still ringing phone out of the tangle of denim. “No phones... Hmm... Scott.” He taps the screen to accept the call and presses it to Stiles’ ear with one hand, the other trailing back down...

“Scott? Unnnnng...” It’s safe to say that Stiles wasn’t exactly expecting three of Peter’s fingers inside him, but God it feels good and he can’t help the moan that escapes him. Peter works up a rhythm as Scott rants about god only knows what. Probably Allison. Stiles is a little bit distracted by the fingers brushing up against the perfect spot. He keens and arches as far off the bed as possible, pushing his hips down. Scott goes on to tell Stiles about some relatives of Allison’s that are visiting town... Second cousins of Chris’ or something. Under different circumstances, Stiles would be asking for details and names... But Peter adds a fourth finger and the stretch is exquisite and his prostate is being hit on every single thrust. He lets out a breathy plea. 

“Stiles?” Scott asks hesitantly.

“Y-yeah?” 

“Are you... okay?” 

“I’m fantastic,” Stiles’ voice sounds breathy, even to him, but he doesn’t care. Peter pulls his fingers out and spits into his left palm, the other still holding the phone against Stiles’ ear. He slicks his dick and lines up, teasing the hole with just the very tip. “You have... N-no idea just how fantastic I am.”

“Well, what should I do? They’re hunters!” 

Stiles shouts out as Peter pushes in with one quick thrust.

“Stiles? What’s happening?” Scott yells, concern obvious in his voice.

“Nothing!” Stiles replies quickly, “Look, I can’t talk right now, but we will when I get home.” He bites down on a whine as Peter sets up a punishing pace, driving into Stiles fast and hard. Sweat starts to bead on the man’s forehead and Stiles wants nothing more than to reach up and lick it off. The rope chafes on his wrists, turning the skin underneath pink.

“Stiles, they arrive tomorrow morning!”

“Yeah well, my hands are tied right now,” Stiles shoots back breathlessly. Peter huffs out a laugh against his throat and changes the angle slightly, making Stiles pant and squirm. It’s right then that Stiles feels the pricking of claws against his left hip and every other thought leaves his mind. He doesn’t care if Scott hears them, he just wants to come as quickly as possible. “Oh God, Peter!” he groans. There’s silence at the other end of the line until...

“Peter...? Oh my God, no, no, no. Okay, talk to you later, dude.” The line goes dead and Stiles mutters about manners, as if he wasn’t just on his phone whilst being brutally fucked by a werewolf.

“I think you scared him,” Peter teases, dropping the phone onto the floor and brushing his claws gently over Stiles’ nipples.

“I don’t care,” he gasps, watching as Peter’s claws trail lower and lower, tracing round his belly button and through his happy trail, and finally drawing a long line up to the tip of his cock. “Please, Peter.” He thrusts up into the wolf’s hand, sighing in relief when Peter moves with him rather than restricting him. 

It doesn’t take much longer for Stiles to find his release. Peter whispers the order in his ear and trails his lips down to Stiles’ throat, before biting down hard with his flat, human teeth. Stiles sees white and goes completely boneless, flopping onto the bed and panting. Peter follows soon after, pounding into Stiles twice more and then pulling out to add his come to Stiles’ on the boy’s stomach. He leans down and laps at the mixture, humming in appreciation. 

When the ropes are loosened and they start to settle down, both exhausted and sated, Peter slaps Stiles’ used ass once, short and sharp, delighting in the strangled cry it earns him. 

“No phones. Remember that,” he says, then pulls the boy into an open mouthed kiss. 

“Yes, sir.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr: http://imtheanomaly.tumblr.com/
> 
> ALSO I'm taking prompts. I write anything Sterek (except mpreg because it freaks me out and fem!Stiles) and Steter PWP because it's my guilty pleasure and there isn't enough of it out there.
> 
> So, drop me a prompt on Tumblr/in a comment and I'll do my best :)


End file.
